


Rich Boy Predatory

by kaibasetos



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 21:28:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7730353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaibasetos/pseuds/kaibasetos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kaiba is a vision this way, prideful and vicious and deadly. All for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rich Boy Predatory

**Author's Note:**

> Man, I was really feeling this all of a sudden. I've talked about this sort of scenario with Joey before (like, at least a year ago at this point) and it returned to the forefront of my mind earlier, so I really wanted to write it. Although I didn't intend it at first, this can sort of be paired with the [Talk Shit, Get Hit](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3466097/chapters/11291803) chapter of Love, They Say; the boys both defending one another in their own ways. This was even originally supposed to be a drabble, and then, well... You know how these things go.
> 
> Either way, whoo! I'm stoked about coming back to JouKai and hitting it hard. Enjoy, dears!

Jounouchi is standing uncertainly by the ornate doors of the restaurant, keeping his head ducked and staring at his phone. He still feels out of touch in places such as these, the expensive affairs that Kaiba brings him to; it isn’t as though he feels particularly uncomfortable, just entirely unsuited for the environment. The collar of his button-up shirt feels too tight, and he wonders how Kaiba wears them all the time. Perhaps suffocation is an acquired taste. **  
**

Kaiba has been holding conversation with the hostess for far too long. She apparently knows him well, and the small talk was fine to observe at the beginning – interesting, really, to see Kaiba relax around someone else if only to speak about the weather and his ongoing projects at work. Now, however, it’s starting to make Jounouchi impatient, borderline restless. He checks the time on his phone and turns towards Kaiba to remind him that they only have half an hour before their movie showing, and right at that moment someone enters the restaurant and collides with him.

He’s not sure how, precisely, they make contact, but he knows he comes away with his head aching from where it knocked against the strangers’. He splays his fingers over his temple, eyes pressed shut in a wince. “Jeez, sorry man. You okay?”

“You need to watch where you’re going,” a cold voice replies, and Jounouchi blinks his eyes open to see a stuffy man in a prim tuxedo scowling at him as he fixes his bowtie.

“Excuse me?” Jounouchi asks with a frown, dropping his hand and squaring up his posture in one fluid movement. Even after all these years, the scrappy gang instinct in him lingers only just beneath the surface, deeply ingrained and waiting for the opportune moment to rise. He can’t help the way deserved violence tastes so good in his mouth. “I was just standin’ here, maybe you’re the one who needs to watch where he’s goin’.”

The man scoffs, clearly sizing him up with a look of condescension and disinterest. “Who are you to think you have the right to speak to me like that? You don’t even look like you belong here. Why don’t you skitter back out onto the streets where you belong?”

Jounouchi’s blood runs hot, his hands involuntarily curling into fists. He’s deeply aware of the silence that blankets the restaurant now, the way the occupants at the frontmost tables have all turned to watch them, the way Kaiba is watching them. Rage narrows him to bloody tunnel vision, voice low and teeth gritted. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”

“Am I supposed to be afraid of you?” The man laughs, clearly entertained, and he looks around the room as if inviting others to join him in his mockery. “Show of hands, who here dragged this pathetic street trash pity case somewhere he _clearly_ wouldn’t be able to afford otherwise?”

“Listen–” Jounouchi begins, but he’s cut off by Kaiba brushing past him. The cruelty in the man’s gaze turns to bewilderment as Kaiba advances, grabs the shoulder of his blazer and backs him up cornered against the wall with his grip, his height, the threat clenched in his jaw. It registers with Jounouchi that he’s never seen Kaiba _this_ angry; it radiates from him like something tangible, war in the way he leans in to intimidate, his eyes sharp and glinting.

“I brought him here,” Kaiba growls, tone like a wolf stalking its crippled prey, and even from a distance Jounouchi can tell the way he’s pinning must be bruising. “Is this an issue we need to address personally?”

The man stares up at him, and for a moment a shade of recognition flickers over his face, followed by confusion. “Aren’t you Gozaburo’s son?”

Jounouchi steps forward immediately in response to the name, poised to protect, but Kaiba doesn’t leave room for interruption. Jounouchi can see the way the words ripple through him, see the way he tightens his hold so that his nails bite, see the way he lowers his head like a venomous serpent ready to strike. It’s incredible, his loathing; something worth building a monument to. "If you ever dare to speak about my partner in such a disparaging manner again,” Kaiba hisses with the utmost contempt, “I will _fucking_ destroy you. My status does not factor into this. Do you understand?”

Jounouchi’s pulse jumps, the heat in Kaiba’s words dizzying. Kaiba is never so crude, so brutal, and right now it’s all for him. He sucks in a deep breath, watching the back of Kaiba’s stiff shoulders, the danger dripping from his eyes, the pressure wound through every inch of him as though he’s trying his best to assuage his temper. His self-control is slipping but he’s a vision this way, prideful and vicious and deadly. All for him.

The man nods, and if Jounouchi isn’t mistaken he trembles a little.

“I will be holding you to that,” Kaiba promises, heavy like a panther’s purr. He releases his grasp with force, stepping back and straightening himself, but when the stranger makes to leave Kaiba fixes him with a look that freezes him in his tracks. “And should we be so unfortunate as to meet again, you would be wise to remember never to address me as that bastard’s kin. I will not tolerate being associated with him. Get out of my sight.”

The man averts his eyes from Kaiba and gives him another quick nod before immediately hurrying away. Little by little, the feeling of the room starts to open up again, conversations picking back up in whispers. Jounouchi spares a look back at the hostess, who is busily working behind the counter, pointedly ignoring everything that just happened. He’s grateful for her.

Kaiba is still and rigid, and Jounouchi approaches him slowly, the way one would approach a wounded animal. He rests his hand on Kaiba’s shoulder with a calm he doesn’t really feel and murmurs, “Hey, let’s get out of here.”

Kaiba doesn’t respond, just allows Jounouchi to guide him through the restaurant’s doors and out onto the city sidewalk. Jounouchi walks them towards the direction of the parking lot, trying to breathe evenly to alleviate the way his lungs are still tied into knots from sheer tension. “You didn’t have to do that, y’know. I can take care of myself.”

“I’m aware,” Kaiba responds, and there’s a shade of admiration to it that softens the ferality of the still-fading resentment in him. “I was content to allow that to be the case, but I will not stand idly by while someone slanders you in such a way. He deserved worse.”

Jounouchi’s blood runs hot again, this time with a thrill that races through his entire body. He is, and has always been, more than willing to fight his own battles, but the thought that Kaiba would go to such lengths to defend him is more powerful than he could have imagined. His chest is filled with something sinister and smooth, loving and fervent. The aftermath of his own feeling entwines with Kaiba’s and chokes in his throat. They hardly make it through the maze of aisles in the lot before Jounouchi gives in to the urge to pull him close and kiss him.

Kaiba not only welcomes it but responds with enthusiasm, his hands on Jounouchi’s face, his weight pressing Jounouchi back along the passenger door of Kaiba’s car in a curve. His kiss feels like a side-effect of his anger, tempestuous and claiming, and Jounouchi tangles his fingers in Kaiba’s hair, in the back of his blazer. Their tongues meet and Jounouchi tastes the force of Kaiba’s emotion, the _I would do anything to protect you_ and _no one gets to hurt you in front of me_ , and he arches his back with a soft moan before Kaiba pulls away.

They make eye contact, and Jounouchi knows they’re thinking the same thing: fuck the movie.

He gives Kaiba a crooked, inviting grin anyway, baiting him into it. “What’s on your mind?”

Kaiba studies him with a gaze that is all dark desire and he smirks, his fingers trailing down Jounouchi’s neck. “I want you to myself tonight.”

Jounouchi has never been more willing to let him have his way.


End file.
